Could i request a ghostlight where danny can turn into a dragon, it could be though a curse or just training from queen dora?
Like dragon Danny seeing the yellow signal outfit and thinking "mmmmm gold, shiny, must take".
He should probably be more worried about being cursed.
Scratch that, he should definitely be more worried about being cursed. However, it wasn’t done intentionally or in bad faith. This is just the consequences of him, Sam, and Tucker fucking around and finding out when left unsupervised with the grimoire of a long dead witch.
In their defense, they didn’t know Tucker could use magic. This revelation both upset Tucker, who refused to be swayed from tech, and Sam, who thought she was a better fit for magic considering how goth she is. Danny hadn’t really cared, since he was too busy being turned into a dragon. At least it isn’t like with Dora’s necklace; Danny is still himself, can think clearly, and isn’t overcome by rage.
He’s just… Danny. But as a dragon.
“Well, you do something to fix him then!” Tucker shouts, waving a hand in the air angrily, “Since you want to be so good at magic, you do it then!”
“I would if I could! But you’re the one who gets to use magic, so figure it out and turn Danny back!” Sam shouts back, getting in Tucker’s face with a fierce scowl.
Danny sighs, shifting uncomfortably. His room is not big enough for a dragon, and his back is starting to cramp up. He looks longingly out the window to the clear skies that call to him, and wonders when his friends will stop fighting.
They keep shouting, so he doubts they’ll be able to focus on actually helping him for at least another hour.
The only silver lining about the situation is that Jazz and his parents are gone, taking the weekend to visit a few colleges so Jazz can decide which one she wants to go to. Though he’s been cursed into dragon form and his friends are yelling about it, at least his family can’t make it any worse with their attempts to ‘fix’ things.
There’s a lull in the yelling, Sam and Tucker both turning their attention back to the grimoire. Danny shifts his wings, tail flicking slightly, and leans his head closer. He wishes he could help figure this out, but he can’t talk in this form, and any attempt at charades will destroy his room.
His friends look focused, at least. So maybe they’ve decided to focus on finding solutions instead of fighting.
“Here,” Sam says, shoving the grimoire over to Tucker roughly. “Try that.”
Tucker reads over the spell, then scoffs and pushes the grimoire back. “That’s not going to fix anything. Didn’t you read it? It clearly says truth is the greatest revenge, revealing one’s true form force it into light. It’s talking about making people who are secretly cruel turn ugly or something like that! It’s not going to do anything for Danny!”
“It says one’s true form and Danny’s is a human! That would work!”
And they go right back to arguing.
Danny sighs, turning to stare out the window again.
In any other circumstance, being a dragon would be so fun. He has wings! He’s big and has claws and can probably breathe fire! And it’s not making him act on animal instincts or anything! If he could just be outside…
He glances at Sam and Tucker again.
Maybe he can go outside, enjoy the curse a bit before they figure out a way to undo it. Spend some time flying around with wings.
All the curse did was turn him into a dragon. It just changed his form. If he still has his ghost powers, if the curse didn’t change his nature from halfa to dragon…
Carefully, Danny focuses on his tail and tries to make it intangible. There’s a strange sensation of ice running down his spine, then it goes into his tail. In the next second, his tail drops through the floor, and Danny bites down a grin.
He is so out of here.
He gives Sam and Tucker another glance; they’ve got their heads bent over the grimoire, paying no attention to him.
Perfect.
Danny goes fully intangible and sinks through the floor of his bedroom, then maneuvers his way outside the house. As soon as he’s out, standing beneath the sunlight and able to stretch out his new body, Danny pulls his power back and takes a few careful steps on the grass, testing his balance. His wings shift on his back, and he stretches them out, feeling the way his new limbs move.
Everything feels natural, as if he’s always been a dragon.
Taking a deep breath, Danny spreads his wings out and takes off running. A few hard pumps of his wings gets him into the air, and he can’t help but let out a joyful roar.
Distantly, he hears Tucker and Sam yelling again, but he’s too happy to be free of that room to care. Let them argue. He wants to have fun.
Staying in Amity Park is a no go; Val might go after him, thinking he’s a threat, and ghosts could pop out at any time to cause problems. He might as well take this chance to fly around wherever he wants. Chicago wouldn’t be too hard to reach with how fast he’s flying, but he’s been there before and doesn’t want to stay in Illinois.
What other big city is nearby that he can fly to?
New York?
Or, better yet, Gotham.
It’s definitely a bad idea, but if any city is able to handle a dragon appearing without warning, it would be Gotham. Plus, he might get to see some of the heroes in action! Sure, it’s the middle of the day, but surely a dragon is a good enough reason for Batman to show up before the sun sets.
Mind made up, Danny flies up into the clouds and heads towards Gotham, following the roads out of Amity Park.
The flight is quick. It takes barely over an hour to see the dark figures of Gotham’s tallest buildings, fog surrounding the city like something out of a horror movie. The sun glints off the ocean behind the city for a rare, cloudless day. He’s heard stories about Gotham’s weather, how dreary it is, the occasional acid rain, the gloominess of it all. As bad as his luck is, it seems that the sunny day is trying to give him something good to even it out after being cursed into a dragon.
Excited, Danny angles himself down, diving out of the lower clouds and shifts his wings to catch on a wind current that smoothly sends him towards the city.
Just to be careful, he goes invisible as he gets closer, staying out of sight once he enters the city proper.
Noise overwhelms him immediately, cars honking and voices yelling, the occasional gunshot and sound of something breaking. It makes Danny wince, disoriented enough to make him falter as he flies above the streets.
Amity Park is quiet and peaceful in comparison, so much so that he hadn’t realized just how enhanced his senses had become in a dragon’s form.
The sounds of everything are so much, and all the movement of such a big city is dizzying. At least he can’t smell anything but salt from the sea; if he had to deal with the constant smell of blood, guts, and sewage, he would find a way to fully die to get away from it.
He slows down to a smooth glide, weaving his way between buildings as he takes in the city. Even with the sun out, it’s gloomy, the tall buildings casting shadows across the streets, a mix of art deco and gothic architecture filling up the space. He wonders if he should find some place up high he can rest, maybe bathe in the sun for a bit until he felt like moving again. If he managed to fall asleep, that might give Sam and Tucker enough time to figure out how to undo the curse.
“Ow! Shit, that hurts.”
Or he indulge in his curiosity and check up on whoever just cursed loud enough to be heard over the ambient noise of Gotham.
It takes a minute of searching before Danny’s eyes zero in on a bright flash of yellow moving across rooftops.
All other colors seem dull in comparison, and Danny has just enough time to think, Oh, there’s the dragon instincts taking over, before he’s flying after it, unable to focus on anything else.
Every time the yellow leaps out of the shadows, it’s as if it glows. As if Danny’s chasing sunlight.
He gets close, but loses the yellow every so often with how he has to maneuver around buildings, putting his new flying abilities to the test in an effort to keep up.
Then the yellow comes to an abrupt stop. Danny can’t stop in time and flies past it, tilting his body and spreading out his wides as far as he can to make a tight turn.
“I’m fine, just bruised up, but I feel like I’m being followed,” the yellow says to no one. There’s a pause, and then the yellow says, “I don’t see anything, is the thing.”
If the yellow has anything more to say, it doesn’t get the chance to do more than open its mouth before Danny’s crashing into it, tackling it to the ground.
He’s elated as they roll across the roof, the living sunlight caught safe in his arms. He holds it close to his chest, protecting it until they come to a stop, dropping his invisibility as a low rumble builds in the back of his throat. The dragon brain has thoroughly taken over, and it takes far too long to wrestle control back from it.
Once he’s able to think more clearly, Danny looks down at the poor guy he’s caught and realizes, hey that’s a hero!
And then he realizes, that’s a hero. I fucked up.
He tries to say sorry, but all that comes out is a low chuff. The hero, who he can recognize as the Signal because who else wears mostly yellow in Gotham, leans back as much as he can, trapped in Danny’s grasp.
“Hey, dragon,” Signal says nervously. “I’m really hoping you didn’t catch me because you were looking for a snack.”
Danny huffs, bumping his head against Signal’s chest. He hopes he doesn’t come across as aggressive, because all he wants to do is laze around with a hero, his dragon brain happy to keep hold of its yellow sunshine.
He’s not going to let go of Signal, though. He intends to make the most of this moment while he can.
“Okay. You seem friendly? That’s good I guess.” Signal sighs, then tries to wiggle out of Danny’s grip. Danny doesn’t budge until Signal gasps and curls into himself, clearly in pain.
Worried, Danny lets go of him and tries to see what’s wrong, his snout poking against the Signal’s ribs.
The Signal hisses out a breath, trying to push Danny away. “Stop, don’t do that. Man, I hope my ribs aren’t broken. That would suck.”
That would suck. Rib injuries are the worst, and the bruises always seem to stay longer on ribs than anywhere else, in Danny’s experience. He would love to offer the Signal some ice, but as a dragon, he’s not sure how to use that particular power. He settles instead for backing off and making himself small, offering an apologetic rumble.
“Thanks,” Signal smiles, gingerly uncurling from where he’s hunched over, an arm crossing his stomach, protecting it. “I guess you’re friendly, then?”
Danny nods.
“...And you can understand me?”
Danny nods harder, a high pitched growl slipping out of his mouth.
“That’s so cool. What are you doing here in Gotham?”
It’s not a yes or no question, so Danny’s stuck on how to answer when words are so far out of reach. He shrugs, wings shifting against his back, then carefully bumps his head against the Signal’s helmet.
“Yeah, that was a bad question. Do you need help?”
Danny scrunches up his nose as he thinks. He is cursed, but so far, being a dragon isn’t all that bad. It sucks that he can’t talk, but everything else is cool! He just doesn’t want to be a dragon forever. But it’s nothing the Signal can help with, so Danny just shrugs again.
The Signal tilts his head. “Alright. I guess I’ll get going then, and you can chill up here.”
The low growl comes suddenly, without him even thinking, and Danny wraps himself around the hero again. Distantly, he thinks that he should stop, that this is technically holding the Signal in place against his will, but the much louder, dragon part of him is deeply upset by the thought of the Signal leaving while he’s injured. Danny can protect him, so there’s no need for him to go anywhere! In fact, he’s only safe as long as he’s with Danny!
He leans more of his weight onto the Signal until they both fall back onto the roof, pinning the hero in place.
Danny tries to be gentle, but the impact still makes Signal groan, tensing up in pain.
Sorry, he tries to say, the words coming out in a low chuffing noise. He draws his tail up to curl around the Signal so he’s completely surrounded by Danny, kept safe from anything that would try to attack him.
Letting out a breath, the Signal lightly knocks his head against Danny’s neck, the helmet barely felt through Danny’s scales. “Alright, Oracle, can you send someone to my location? I’m a bit stuck.”
It’s hard to hear, but Danny manages to make out a voice saying, “Black Bat is heading there now. What’s wrong?”
“I’m a bit stuck.”
“Injured?”
“Just my ribs, but that’s not really the problem. There’s a dragon who’s very determined to keep me on this roof.”
“A dragon,” the voice repeats.
“Yeah. It seems to like me? But it’s also not letting me leave. So. I’m stuck.”
There’s a pause, then a soft burst of static before the voice says, “I’m going to send a message to everyone else just in case they’re able to provide any back up. I’m sure Tim is looking for an excuse to ditch Bruce at that accounting meeting.”
“Guess I’ll just wait to be rescued, then,” Signal says, sighing. Then he tilts his head up to look at Danny. “Is there some way you could talk to me? To pass the time. Maybe morse code? Do you know what that is?”
Dragon brain makes him stupid, apparently, because Danny does know morse code. He didn’t even think of alternative ways of communication once he discovered talking was impossible with his new vocal chords.
It’s probably not even dragon brain. It’s just Danny brain that makes him like this.
Embarrassed, Danny drops his head onto the roof, drawing his tail closer to himself so it can cover his eyes, his best attempt at hiding his face. Then, with one sharp claw, he taps out Y.E.S.
“Oh! So, what’s up?”
N.O.T. D.RA.G.O.N. H.U.M.A.N. G.O.T. C.U.R.S.E.D.
“Why did you say you didn’t need help if you got cursed?!”
Danny wants to say it was an accident, but has no confidence that he can spell ‘accident’ correctly, so he goes with F.R.I.E.N.D. M.A.D.E. M.I.S.T.A.K.E.
“And can they fix it?”
I.D.K. T.H.E.Y. W.E.R.E. F.I.G.H.T.I.N.G. Danny huffs out a breath, flicking his tail in annoyance as he uncurls slightly, giving Signal some more breathing space. He doesn’t look as stressed out anymore, which is nice, but he still holds his ribs tenderly, careful not to move too much. G.O.T. B.O.R.E.D. L.E.F.T.
The Signal taps his own fingers against the roof, thinking after he takes in Danny’s words. “Do you think we can call them and see if they know how to fix it? I doubt you want to be a dragon forever.”
N.O. P.H.O.N.E.
“It’s cool, we can use mine.” And he pulls out a cell phone from… somewhere. Danny has no idea where. It’s like he blinked, and a phone suddenly appeared. His hero suit probably has a lot of hidden compartments and pockets to hold as much stuff as possible, but it’s so well designed that Danny can’t begin to think of where he’d put anything. Especially when his dragon brain keeps getting distracted by how nice the yellow is.
Danny taps out Tucker’s number when Signal asks for it, watching as the call connects and is put on speaker.
“Hello?” Tucker’s voice says, hesitant and a little distracted.
“Hi,” Signal responds with a mischievous smile, “Do you happen to be missing a dragon? Cause I’ve got one here who’s hoping he can get a little help from a friend.”
Danny hears something clatter on Tucker’s end, then Tucker starts yelling for Sam. He’s not quite able to bite back his laughter, entire body shaking with it. The Signal keeps his composure better, but he does share a glance with Danny that has him biting his lip, trying to keep his smile from growing.
“Where is he?!” Tucker demands, and for a moment Danny feels ashamed of how much stress he’s putting his best friends through. And then he remembers them fighting nonstop while ignoring him and doesn’t feel bad at all.
“Gotham.”
“...Gotham,” Sam repeats. Her voice is flat in the way it always gets before she verbally (and sometimes physically) tears someone apart. Danny winces hard enough that it jostles the Signal, making him glance back at Danny.
“Yeah. Gotham. He said he was cursed?”
Sam sighs heavily. “Yeah. Not my fault. It is Tucker’s fault, though.”
“I think I found the solution though! And also, it was an accident. You were the one who wanted to read the grimoire.”
He can tell they’re gearing up for another fight, so Danny lowers his face closer to the phone and lets loose a dark growl. It shuts them right up, and he briefly wonders about learning how to growl like that as a human, since it’s so effective.
Tucker clears his throat, and continues as if nothing happened. “Anyways. The cure. The thing that will make Danny stop being cursed.”
There’s another long pause.
“The cure…?” Signal prompts.
“Kisses.”
“Sorry, what?”
“It’s kisses.”
“Like… true love’s kiss?”
Danny hopes it’s not true love’s kiss. If it is, he’s never going to be human again. Who would his true love even be? As much as he liked Valerie, that ships sailed long ago. And he loves Sam and Tucker, but not quite like that.
“No. Thankfully,” Sam says. “Just kisses. What matters is the amount, not the person it’s from. So whoever you are, we’re gonna need you to be giving Danny as many kisses as possible until he’s human again. We’re also on our way to Gotham now. Johnny’s offered us a ride.”
On cue, an engine revs loudly.
“We’ll be there soon!” Tucker shouts over the engine, and the call ends just a second later.
Danny huffs, shaking his head lightly.
“Interesting friends you got there,” Signal comments idly.
Y.E.S. Danny taps out. L.O.V.E. T.H.E.M.
The Signal sits up and moves away from Danny, who has to stomp down the urge to curl around the hero tighter to keep him in place. He stands up, putting his phone away, and looks over Danny. His gaze feels like a physical weight, moving from his face, and the horns on his head, to the scales covering him, to his wings and tail.
His tails flicks back and forth nervously. Danny can’t get it to stop.
“Dragon,” someone new says, startling Danny. He spots the newcomer immediately, a lithe figure in all black perched on the ledge of the roof. Her voice is rough and he can’t see her face at all, fully covered as it is in her mask.
This must be Black Bat. He doesn’t know much about her; no one does, with how she’s managed to avoid being photographed and how rarely she is seen by anyone at all. He honestly wasn’t sure if she was real or not, but here she is.
“Hey,” Signal greets easily, “We need to kiss him better.”
Black Bat tilts her head. “Kiss… dragon?”
“He’s cursed. And kisses will fix him. Not true love’s kiss, but just a lot of kisses.”
“True love’s kiss?” she repeats.
“Oh, shit. I guess you haven’t read any fairy tales?” Black Bat shakes her head, and Danny wonders how she’s managed to avoid all fairy tales for so long. They’re usually among the first stories children are exposed to. “Yeah, in a lot of those stories, a curse can only be broken from a kiss by someone by love.”
Black Bat nods slowly, and it’s clear she doesn’t really understand, but she does hop off the ledge and walk over to Danny. She pulls up her mask to reveal her mouth, then looks to the Signal for guidance.
“Like this,” Signal says, then leans over and presses a soft kiss to Danny’s cheek.
If he were human, Danny would be blushing madly. As it is, he has to force himself to stay still and not hide his face in his hands, claws and all, from how flustered he is.
Black Bat follows in suit, dropping a delicate kiss to the top of his head.
Danny loses track of how many kisses he gets, all over his face, beyond flustered by the amount of affection two heroes are showering him in. It’s just to break the curse, but it’s still a lot of kisses!
Signal kisses the tip of his nose, and there’s a flash of light. Danny feels himself change, growing smaller, his human softness returning to him. It’s barely a few seconds, and then Danny’s human again, sitting on the roof with the Signal and Black Bat standing over him.
They blink at each other for a long moment, then Black Bat smiles and pats the top of his head.
Danny smiles. He knows his cheeks are red, can feel how hot they are himself, and ducks his head, too embarrassed to look at either of them.
“How are you feeling?” Signal asks, crouching down to be eye level with Danny.
He tries to answer, but all that comes out is a hoarse rasp. He winces and brings a hand up to his throat, then shrugs and gives the Signal a thumbs up.
He clears his throat. This time, he manages to whisper, “Thank you.”
Black Bat gives him a cheerful wave, then hops back onto the ledge and jumps off. Signal barely takes his eyes off Danny enough to give her a nod goodbye. He reaches out and brushes Danny’s hair off his forehead some before his fingers trail down the side of his face.
“I’ll admit, you looked cool as a dragon,” Signal says, “But you’re much cuter like this.”
Danny gives in and hides his face in his hands. The Signal laughs, warm and bright, and kisses his forehead.
“Come on, let’s make sure your friends can find you.”
“They’re going to be so annoying about this,” Danny mutters.
“It’s how friends show affection.”
“Seriously, though, thank you. I know being tackled by a dragon isn’t what anyone expects. Did I hurt you? Your ribs…”
The Signal shrugs. “Nah. I’m all good. Just a little bruised, but it’ll heal quickly enough. Though, you’re more than welcome to give me a kiss to help me feel better.”
Danny shoves him lightly for the teasing, but he does pull the Signal back for a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.
It’s only fair, after all.
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So after the spoilers for Chap 257 dropped, I saw some tweets clarifying the meaning of the Kanji Sukuna used in the chapter when referring to his mother, and the overall reveals in the chapter got me thinking.
I’m making this post as a way of gathering my thoughts, personal speculations and where I think all of this connects to Sukuna’s character and the information Gege has given us over the years. Nothing I say is by any means new information, but like I said, I’m just collecting my thoughts here. By the way, just a warning, this post contains SPOILERS for the JJK Manga! If you don’t like that, please don’t read this!
Something I’ve noticed is that the theme of “Hunger” and symbolism of “Cooking/Food” is heavily referenced with Sukuna throughout the Manga. Gege in a previous Fanbook has disclosed Sukuna’s favorite Hobby to be “Eating”.
This theme is again very much ingrained within Sukuna’s cursed techniques and even his Domain Expansion, the “Malevolent Shrine”. With his two main techniques being “Dismantle” and “Cleave” are cutting-type attacks. He is also able to use a Flame-Arrow, and Fire is essential for making Food. The Shrine in his Domain Expansion literally has mouths on all sides, looking eager to chew down anything in-front of them!
This symbolism also heavily influences Sukuna’s own manner of speech, and the way he speaks to other characters in the series as well. With his post-fight chat with Jogo before his death, Sukuna mentions Jogo lacking the “Hunger” to take control of his desires, preventing him from reaching the heights of Gojo Satoru. Before the Start of their fight in Shinjuku, Sukuna called Gojo a “Nameless Fish on top of his cutting board”, and that he was going to start by “Peeling off the scales”(refering to Gojo’s infinity). There’s also further symbolism that supports this by analyzing the Kanji and meaning of Sukuna’s “Malevolent Shrine” but I’m not very educated on that so I won’t be opening that point here.
What all of this points to is that Eating and Food……is extremely important to Sukuna, to the point that it literally affects him in manners innumerable.
Eating is an instinct, a necessity for the survival of every single living being.
And In the face of extreme Hunger and starvation, even those with the strongest will could lose their Humanity and revert to the basic animalistic side of their existence. (The Heian Period also had a Famine, although I believe the timing to be a bit off, but do with this info as you see fit)
In JJK Chapter 257, it is revealed to us that Sukuna and his Twin were most likely starving in the womb of their starving mother.
On the brink of starvation, Sukuna had to consume his “other self”(his twin), so that he could survive.
Btw, this tweet and this thread gives additional characterisation to Sukuna:
Link to the original thread: Link.
More context (and reactions :P):
Link to original thread: Here
This reveals to us that indeed, Sukuna was born a twin. And as we all know, “Twins” are seen with extreme scrutiny in Jujutsu Society, they’re not well liked. This too in a period where Cursed Spirits and Jujutsu Sorcery was at its peak, it is not far-fetched to assume that his Mother may not have been treated very well by the people in her surroundings, especially as she bore twins.
When Kashimo asks if Sukuna was born the Strongest or if he made himself the Strongest, this is the response Sukuna gave to him:
When you think about it, how do you think the people around them would have reacted when the woman: who was supposed to birth two twins, gave birth to a single child instead? and that child had consumed his other twin in the womb itself?
No doubt people would’ve been horrified, disgusted and even revulsed. With the woman and her newborn child.
This would’ve led to their further ostracisation in the already very close-minded society. Unable to fend for herself and her newborn child, it must’ve been difficult for Sukuna’s mother to survive. I feel like somewhere along the line, Sukuna was left alone to fend for himself at an extremely young age. To protect himself from both Curses and Society alike.
This is why I believe Sukuna knows what true starvation, weakness and hunger feels like. Both in the emotional and literal sense. He was left without another person caring about him or his well-being, in a cut-throat period where it was “Fight or be killed”.
Powerful curses roamed all across Japan, nowhere was safe. Simply be strong, or you'll die. There's no room for weakness. And initially, a kid!Sukuna was weak, as anyone would be in the beginning when they're just starting out in this world. (and maybe, he didn't have much to eat, leading to long periods of starvation? :') )
I believe it is this debilitating hunger, and feeling of weakness that eventually led to Sukuna’s current Hedonistic mindset.
He’s essentially traumatised by it, and believes that it was his own weakness that led him to experience this sheer starvation. That he deserved to feel this way because he was weak then. Perhaps, the people around him were right, that as long as they have the power and strength to overcome anything, they’re free to do as they please; And there is nothing anyone else could do about it.
I feel like the irony here is that Sukuna himself, must’ve been a “weakling” before eventually rising the ranks to become History’s Strongest Sorcerer. This is also why he values Strength so much.
Ultimately, Sukuna has decided that there was nothing more important than being strong enough to fulfill your own desires. And “eating” is one of his most important desires. It’s his favourite thing to do, the one he derives the most pleasure out of. And like an animal, whose main focus is to consume, consume and consume. He too, simply consumes.
Most morals likely have no meaning to him. He doesn’t care who he hurts, what he does, as long as he’s able to get what he wants. And this isn’t limited to eating.
This is why people referring to Sukuna as a “Natural Disaster” is so befitting of him. Because Natural Disasters also don’t care about what or who they’re destroying, they just come and go, wreaking havoc appropriate for their nature and magnitude.
I believe Sukuna himself has said lines similar in nature, when talking to Kashimo:
Now I’m not sure how Sukuna perceives or even experiences this “Love”, because I think he has a rather very warped idea of it. I do think that this definition of love is similar to the one that Gojo also understands, but I don’t think he knows what “love” truly is. I’m not sure how I could comment on this, but I do think that Sukuna’s emotionally starved, whether he realises that or not.
Because, like Kashimo himself asked Sukuna “What is the point of dividing your soul into 20 different parts and then traversing across time if you’re satisfied with this?” we do not know the answer to that yet.
But many people have speculated that “Black Box” panels in JJK manga represent a curse (either self-inflicted or put by someone) on the speaker. Like, take a look over here where Sukuna reiterates the same dialogue, except it looks like he’s trying to reassure himself:
This once again shows that Sukuna has only ever strived for himself, in the same hedonistic fashion, to a very very extreme degree. It is possible that he's been lacking something, and he himself does not realise that he’s lacking it. Maybe it was this subconscious feeling, that led to Sukuna agreeing to Kenjaku’s plan of dividing his soul into 20 different parts, and to traverse across time as a Cursed Object.
Sukuna’s an incredibly complex character, and I’m excited to see where this goes. Gege has put extra care in the way he characterizes and depicts Sukuna, and again, I’m really sad that a lot of that characterization gets lost in translation. Still, I’m going to try my best to understand and get the most accurate feel of his character as I possibly can.
If you made it this far, Thank you for reading! And if you would like, please do leave a comment in the tags or replies because I would love to read what other people think of this and just Sukuna in general. I do not see a lot of people doing critical analysis of him, and a lot of his actions are seemingly swept under the rug. I don’t like that, so hopefully this contributes to people focusing more on Sukuna and his character. (/^v^)/ <3
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(character uses they/it)
i keep wanting to start posting my ocs over here again and then Just Not Doing It so uhhhh !!! some stuff from february, had a dream about knives that made me think of a plant oc with a constant power output so extreme that it generates a deadly radiation field around them. because of that they've been living alone this whole time, avoiding contact with other living things, and over the years they've learned how to suppress that output for short spans of time or "safely" pour out the excess in order to be safe to be around, though they ultimately prefer their solitude due to a history of bad experiences with humans. they're very blunt, spiteful, and curious
@whatever-you-can-give-me suggested lr would make good friends for them since they are 🤝 about being extremely hard to hurt lol
also! wrote like 2k about they and razlo's first meeting below the cut if anyone's interested in some good ol violence + gore :3
that was a fr content warning btw read at ur own discretion:
Chance encounters with violent strangers out in the open desert are nothing new to LR, even when Livio purposefully had tried to find the quietest possible route to travel. It’s not even necessarily surprising to run into someone a little to the left of human, someone a bit bigger or stronger or more durable than they really have any right to be. The Eye aren’t the only ones designing freaks on this planet, that much is obvious, evidenced sufficiently by the odder fights LR have ever gotten in.
And this one is shaping up to be one of their oddest fights yet.
Livio hadn’t seen the fucker coming, occupied as he was with the slow realization of why this stretch of road doesn’t see much use anymore: a creeping heat across his nerve endings unrelated to the overcast, evening suns, the taste of metal in his mouth, and a deep-rooted nausea twisting up his guts. Radiation sickness. He’s dealt with it before, and as unpleasant as it is, it’s hardly enough to slow him down too bad.
It’s damn distracting, though. A good enough excuse for not noticing them hiding up along the rockface above his head. Not a good enough excuse to keep Razlo from tagging in, especially after something’s pierced straight through the back of his neck, nearly taking his head clean off.
Razlo rolls for cover with a strangled sound, blood gushing from his forced-out throat and foaming at his lips. Even with his senses jarred and his vision blurred, it'd take more than a near-decapitation for his instincts to be overridden. He's slinging out a Punisher before he even knows what he's up against.
There's a blur of motion to his right as soon as his sights are raised. They're probably surprised Razlo's still standing, but so was everyone else who's gotten a lucky shot at him.
He can track their motion by sound alone. They're sloppy. Feet hitting the cracked earth in hard thumps, every one a warning that Razlo can aim a spray of bullets at. And by now Razlo's healed enough to notice and wonder why the hell his head is still so fucked up.
At least now he can mostly see them when he turns, hanging back a ways, out of Razlo's reach. Shorter than him by a head and a half, covered toe to tip in layers of sun-bleached rags, save for their face. That's hidden behind a tall, curved mask, shaped in a way that looks an awful lot like a tomas' crest, with the false eye markings to match. Even the glass for the lenses is opaque. The only part of them that’s exposed is their left hand, extended delicately aside to keep Razlo’s blood dripping off it from getting on their clothes.
Razlo physically tries to shake out the buzzing in his skull that only gets worse by the second, only to notice the foul smell of burning meat and risk an instinctive glance down at his arm, where his flesh has started to bubble and steam seemingly on its own. He looks between his arm and his opponent, the way their body tenses and head begins to tip, shaking hard, simultaneous with his skin boiling that much more fiercely.
Something clicks in his brain. There’s no way.
And no time to find out. This time when they dart in he’s expecting it; he takes a swing at their head, and they dodge right into his follow-through, slamming his Punisher into their skull with a crunch and a wet sound from their throat. They drop, like he’d expect them to, like anyone would. And like no one does, they just roll out of the way and onto their back, braced to spring back up again. Razlo puts his boot through their ribcage before they get the chance to. That should be the end of it, too, but the fucker just keeps kicking, trying to get away, the only sound they make being the gurgle of their lungs filling with blood, and they keep kicking.
At this point Razlo doesn’t even have a plan anymore. Needless to say, he doesn’t go up against an awful lot of guys who match him in the department of being a pain in the ass to take down. Razlo's just starting to come up with a new idea when those long arms swing up, claws digging into and making ribbons of his right leg.
Razlo curses and tries to pull away, which only makes them hold on even tighter. He's staring that four-eyed glare down when that burning feeling across his whole body raises in pitch again, and it's the sight of his flesh starting to disintegrate around their fingers that finally makes him back off.
Razlo rather gracelessly falls on his ass in trying to take a step back, not expecting his right leg to simply break off halfway down his thigh. He scrambles back a ways, ready to keep going, missing limb or no, but— they aren't following him. They're collapsed in the sand, limbs akimbo as they fight to draw a full breath. Razlo watches with morbid curiosity as his severed leg dissolves into nothing more than an off-colored patch of sand beside them.
All that angry tension has gone out of their body, leaving them limp and motionless except for the stutter of their chest, and Razlo can hear the damp gasps muffled behind their mask. By all rights, it should look like more of a struggle. They should be dead, really, but from where Razlo is sitting, it looks a lot more like they’re just taking a rest. He feels more sure of that when they roll their shoulders back a bit, arms braced in the dirt as they delicately arch their spine. There’s some sharp popping sounds, and a little exhale from them; setting their ribs, Razlo figures. He’s had to do the same thing before. Once they can move their arms more effectively, they start to gather themself up into a seated position, bones and joints still crackling like popcorn here and there as they go, til they’re all the way up, with their hands resting in their lap, looking far too fucking comfortable for the fight they’d just had.
"You're not dead."
Their voice startles Razlo despite being as soft as it is, and his gaze flicks up to that mask, just slightly tilted to the side, orange lenses glinting in the harsh sunlight. They don't move at all that Razlo can see. Even their breathing has evened out enough to have become imperceptible under their heavy shroud; if they're in any pain still, Razlo sure can't tell.
"Nope," is all he says, or can manage to say.
He scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking hard a couple times to scrunch up his face in the hopes his nerves might start feeling right again soon.
Another wave of nausea hits him, but his stomach was empty before the fight even started, so he leans forward to put his head between his knees and dry heave for a while.
The whole time, he's aware of his little opponent continuing to sit in silence, watching and eerily unmoving, even when Razlo manages to sit up again and wipe his mouth with his wrist.
"The fuck's yer deal, anyways?" Razlo asks.
"'Deal'...?" They echo.
"Couldn't exactly kill you, either."
He wasn't expecting them to spill their life story or something, but he was thinking he'd get something more of a response than their head tilting back the opposite way. There's not a lot to work with here in trying to get a read on them, but Razlo feels it's safe to hazard they're probably just pretty damn confused, the same as him.
"You kinda smell like a Plant. M'not an expert, but I've met two others."
Now that gets something out of them. A tiny wiggle of their head that makes the pieces in their mask rattle.
"I wouldn't know. I've only met me."
“Huh.”
Whether it’s a confirmation or rebuttal hardly matters at this point. He’s feeling sure enough that his assumption was correct, now, anyways.
"You, uh…" Razlo has to pause for breath. Unlike the thing across from him, he's having a hell of a time getting his back. "You're the one making this radiation field?"
"Yes."
"Any way you could turn it down?"
They say nothing, though Razlo feels suddenly that he's being studied very intently. And shortly after, slowly, slowly the fire in his cells begins to go out, and he can spit the worst of the sourness off his tongue. Eventually he can't feel any radiation left at all, though his body's had a rough enough time from the dose he got, he'll be getting the sickness out of his system for a while yet.
Regardless, Razlo’s fingers twitch against the triggers when he hears that mask rattle again, and his eyes are on it in an instant.
"You didn't answer my first question," Razlo reminds, cautiously.
More silence, for a while.
"You wanted to hurt me."
There's no malice in the statement, at least that Razlo can tell. Just the simple facts. Still, he narrows his eyes.
"You started it. Figured it was mutual."
"That's true."
Razlo grins.
"So, what now? Regrow my leg, and get back to not killing each other?"
"If you'd like to."
That gets a laugh out of him.
"Nah, I think I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you.”
“It is.”
That much is obvious. They stay put, seeming transfixed on watching Razlo’s leg grow back, only a little more slowly than any of his other injuries, now that he doesn’t have the radiation to slow him down. It leaves him feeling itchy and achy all over, and he’s got a bad hunch that right ankle doesn’t have the best chances of coming back right. Once there’s enough of it to fuss about, he gets his foot in his hands and starts experimentally rolling it on its hinge, checking that the range of motion is right.
And still, those orange lenses glint at him curiously. They don’t flinch or look away when Razlo considers them in return; he guesses they don’t know it’s not polite to stare.
“What's yer name?" Razlo asks.
"My name?"
"Don't tell me you ain't got one."
The silence that follows is pretty self-explanatory.
“I’m Razlo.”
He can just make out the sound of them mumbling his name under their breath, like they’re not sure how it’s going to come out. Almost warmly, almost shyly, they manage to say: “hello, Razlo.”
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